


A Very Eccentric Honeymoon

by emeraldcitydowntowngirl



Series: Eccentric Times At Barrington High [8]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Bahamas, Honeymoon, M/M, Vacation, and brendon and ryan literally crashing their honeymoon, honeymoon crashing, just pete and patrick being lovey-dovey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 04:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11592831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldcitydowntowngirl/pseuds/emeraldcitydowntowngirl
Summary: The one where Pete and Patrick document their honeymoon for their children*, hang out in the Bahamas, get sunburnt, don't understand driving on the left side of the road, and get their vacation crashed by Brendon and Ryan.*Their dogs- because Patrick refuses to entertain the notion of, like, actual children.





	A Very Eccentric Honeymoon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laudanum_cafe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laudanum_cafe/gifts).



> me: *says i;m not gonna write another eccentric/says it might be a while till the next one  
> also me: *writes one not even a month later*
> 
> ANYWAYS, this is gifted to laudanum_cafe, because i was ranting about thinking about peterick instead of enjoying my vacation, and they just supplied me with even more ideas PLUS they have been commenting about the details of the eccentric!peterick honeymoon since, like, february!!! thanks for loving this series <3

_(The camera is pointed towards Pete, who is sitting in an airplane seat. He looks a little out of it, probably because of his good ol' fear of flying, but he looks coherent enough- he took half of a Xanax instead of a whole one. He’s frowning at the camera, and he keeps changing the settings)_

"Is this thing on?" He asks, narrowing his eyes at the camera a little. He turns to a person out of the frame, Patrick, and he nudges at his arm. "Ricky. _Ricky_. Is this on? Check it for me."

The camera shifts, so that it’s filming Patrick, who’s leaning his head on a headrest pillow. “Yeah, the little green light is on, I’ll turn it off for you.”

“Wait, no!” Pete exclaims, taking the camera back from him, and he lifts his arm a little, so that the both of them are in the frame. “I wanna document the honeymoon for our future kids to see.”

He speaks to the camera for this- “I’m so used to the camera crew around that I’m almost sad that we won’t have this on record. Like, we have the wedding, we might as well have the honeymoon too!”

Patrick raises his eyebrows. “Are you sure about that? Considering the fact you planned for us to have 4 days where we don’t leave the villa, we’re just gonna f-“ “Patrick, not in front of the kids!”

“We’re not having kids,” Patrick stresses, sounding more exhausted than he looks (and he looks pretty exhausted), “didn’t we just agree on dogs?”

“Yeah, duh, no kids,” Pete says, looking at Patrick, before he turns to the camera, and winks. Patrick looks frantically between Pete and the camera, about to ask what the fuck that wink was about, but Pete just continues talk to the camera, “So yeah! Also, future Pete, if you take pity on Tyler and Josh and give into their begging and give them this footage to use for the show, I’ll ~~fucking~~ kill you.”

(Judging from the fact that the curse words are bleeped out, future Pete definitely gave into Tyler and Josh)

“I can’t help but look into the viewfinder,” Patrick says out of the blue, and it’s true- he keeps looking at himself. “How do you look into the lens like that?”

“Cause I’m ugly,” Pete says, and then he looks into the viewfinder and he smiles. “You look cute, though. All sweaty from plane sex and stuff.”

Patrick’s face immediately turns pink. “Pete, shut the ~~fuck~~ up.”

“It’s true!” Pete says, before he looks into the camera. “Your father and I joined the Mile High Club like 30 minutes ago. And the bathroom was small. Like, it wasn’t an easy task. But we did it, and I think that’s what matters the most. So, kids, never give up on your dreams.”

“You’re vile. You’re going to show our kids that?” Patrick asks, and Pete gives him a sort of goofy grin. “I mean, they’re not actually kids, right?”

Patrick gives a defeated sigh, and that’s it.

“We can always fast-forward it,” Pete offers, “but yeah, that was fun. I almost puked half-way through because of turbulence, I remembered how ~~fucking~~ terrifying flying is, but I’m fine now. The vibrations actually helped in the moment.”

“Can you please stop talking about that,” Patrick practically hisses, “I’m so embarrassed. The stewardess knew what happened, and there was a line forming outside.”

“I had to help you with your zipper, duh, why else would the both of us be in there at the same time?” Pete says, and then he laughs. “Help you with your zipper with my teeth!”

He changes the subject, because Patrick looks like he’s about 2 seconds away from asking to change his seat.

“Anyways! Guess who’s album we saw!”

He flips the camera, and Ashley’s album is on their monitors- Pete’s halfway through 'Strange Love', and Patrick’s on 'Control', but the albums are paused, since they’re talking to the cameras.

“It’s actually really good,” Pete says, “Like, not that I expected it to be ~~shit~~ , but… I didn’t… I mean, she’s 19. How does a 19 year old write this kind of stuff?!” and Patrick nods. “And it’s sad too. Like, ‘Control’ is genuinely… like, wow. When I think about Ashley, I think about… well, mostly blue hair dye. Not stuff like this.”

“I think about Sisky,” Pete says, and then he nods. “But, yeah. But anyways, kudos to you Ashley. Isn’t it weird how quickly the airlines got the album…”

“Yeah, weird,” Patrick says, and then he shrugs. “All I know is that ‘Gasoline’ is gonna be in my head for… like, forever.”

“I didn’t hear that one yet,” Pete says, and then he looks into the camera again. “Kids, when Ashley Frangipane is all famous and selling out arenas and stuff, just know that your fathers knew her before she was famous. And that she was in Emo Time Trademark, and that poetry is the reason we’re alive.”

“Music, Pete. _Music_ is the reason we’re alive. Also we’re not—why do you keep addressing the camera as ‘kids’, the dogs won’t understand this.”

“Maybe in the future…” Pete trails off. “Theodora and Mason. I came up with names already.”

Patrick gapes at Pete. “You came up with names already...?!”

“Yeah! I’m not saying it’ll happen, but… maybe we’ll have some sort of accident, and-“ “We’re both men, Pete, _how_ am I gonna impregnate you.” “Why are you assuming I’m carrying the kid?” “Why are you assuming _I’m_ carrying the kid?!”

They pause for a moment, and they just blink at each other. And then Patrick gives up. “Okay, I like the name Theodora. But Mason has to go, I had a horrible kid named Mason and he ruined that name for me.”

“Alright,” Pete says, and then he grins. “Patrick Jr.”

Patrick rolls his eyes. “Peter the 4th”

“Fuck no, that’s too corny. How about… _SASUKE_.”

Patrick rolls his eyes again. “You’re ridiculous. With that logic, we might as well name him Naruto.”

Pete opens his mouth to say something else, but then there’s an announcement over the speakers- “Alright, everyone! We’re getting ready to land so please put away all electronics, put the tray tables up, and keep your seatbelts on!”

Pete closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to get rid of the fear that has suddenly settled in his stomach. He opens his eyes, and gives the camera a shaky wave. “Alright, well… see ya later?”

And then the camera gets shut off.

* * *

_(There’s an obvious time-skip, because they’re both shirtless and on the beach. Patrick’s talking to the camera this time, and Pete’s behind him, rubbing sunscreen on his arms and shoulders)_

“Okay, even though I feel like a ~~fucking~~ idiot talking to the camera, Pete’s right… I sorta miss it,” he says, before he shrugs. “Anyways- we’re alive! Pete almost puked again when we were landing, but we made it in one piece, and we rented a car, and got settled in, and now… we’re on the beach.”

He flips the camera, and he films the beach- there aren’t many people on it, thankfully. The water is beautiful and clear, and the waves look tame enough for them to go into the ocean without getting pulled away by the current, and then he flips the camera back to himself. “And now, as you can see, Pete’s putting sunscreen on me, so that I don’t look like a lobster, and also so that I don't burn to a crisp.”

“Yeah, we don’t want that,” Pete agrees, and he hooks his chin over Patrick’s shoulder as he grins. “We just want him to get all golden brown so that he looks like a baked good. Like a _croissant_.”

Patrick makes a face, but he doesn’t question it. “Yeah…”

Pete gets back to rubbing Patrick down with sunscreen. “Isn’t it crazy how… like, we got married 2 days ago? Gabe married us 2 ~~fucking~~ days ago. It feels like a year ago.”

“I know,” Patrick agrees. “I bet Ryan is _still_ drunk.”

They both laugh at that- Ryan was still drunk on Monday, a whole day after the reception, and Vicky had to help him into the car.

They talk a little longer about little things, about the villa they’re staying at, about how much they miss having alone time, about how much they can’t wait to go to Atlantis and go to the aquarium. By this time, Pete’s massaging Patrick’s shoulders, and it’s hard to not see the blissed out expression on Patrick’s face, even as he tries to talk through it. Eventually, though:

“ _Patrick_ ,” Pete says lowly in Patrick’s ear, and Patrick shivers a little, as he closes his eyes, relishes in the way that Pete’s rubbing deep circles into his skin, and he leans his head back against Pete's shoulder. “Turn the camera off.”

* * *

_(The next day- they’re in Atlantis, and about to go down the slide with the shark tank. They’re in a double floatie tube, and Patrick’s holding the camera, since he’s in the front, and Pete’s in the back)_

“I’m nervous!” Pete shouts, and he wraps his legs around Patrick’s waist tightly. He keeps his hands in the handles, though- he doesn’t wanna fall out of the floatie. “What if the ride breaks and the glass tube breaks, and the sharks get us!”

“That won’t happen,” the attendant says, and Patrick points the camera at him- he looks mostly tired. “You’ll be safe. Just hold on.”

The camera shifts, so that it’s filming the slide- a sound goes off, and suddenly, they’re sliding down the slide. _Quickly_. It’s pitch black, and Pete screaming in the background is the only sound heard. “PATRICK!” He screeches, and Patrick groans. “Pete, shut up! You’re fine! Just hold onto me.”

“Your stomach is so squishy.” Pete says, and it’s not visible, but he presses his ankles in a little harder, so that he doesn’t tumble out, and his voice echoes around in the tube. Patrick just laughs. “Uh huh. You good?”

Before he can reply, they get to the part with the sharks- they’re suddenly surrounded by light, and the sharks, that swim around the tube. “Woah!” Pete says, “Okay, nevermind, this is cool.”

Patrick films a little bit of the sharks- they don’t even seem to mind the tube that much, they’re just doing their own thing. Pete and Patrick get pushed forward by waves, but the ride is nice and slow, and Pete oohs and ahhs in the background. “We should do this again,” Pete says, when Patrick flips the camera so that it shows them- Pete’s ankles are still digging into Patrick’s stomach, but he looks pretty relaxed. “If the line isn’t too crazy.”

“You’re so unpredictable,” Patrick says, shaking his head. But he smiles as he says it, and then he leans back a little as Pete moves forward, and they kiss for a second before they pull away.

“Kids,” Pete says to the camera, and Patrick doesn’t even refute it, “always face your fears. Even if it’s riding on a slide that goes through a shark tank.”

“With that logic in mind, I think we should swim with sharks next. Like, in those cages,” Patrick says conversationally, and Pete pales.

* * *

_(They’re on the Rapid Rivers now- their positions have changed, so now Patrick’s at the back of the double floatie. Pete looks a lot more at ease with this ride, though. He’s wearing sunglasses, with a little string attached to them that goes around his neck, so that they don’t get lost)_

“So, after a lot of discussion, Ricks and I decided that swimming with the sharks would be a little too much,” he says, and he leans back against Patrick a little. “I like this ride better anyways. I mean, there are a lot of waves, but for the most part, you’re just relaxing in the sun.”

Patrick looks a little concerned, though. “That’s why I told you should put on sunscreen. I mean, I double layered, just to be safe.”

Pete waves him off. “That’s white people problems. I’m already tan, the only thing that can happen to me if that I get more brown.”

Patrick looks like he wants to argue, but he just shrugs. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Pete says, before he looks back into the camera. “Kids, Patrick worries too much for his own good.”

“It’s—I just don’t want my husband to end up sending half of his vacation in pain because he didn’t wanna take 10 minutes to put on sunscreen.” Patrick says, trying to look stern, but he melts a little. “I just called you my husband. And we’re married. Wow.”

Pete holds up his hand, with his ring on it. “Yup!”

A large wave pushes them forward, and they move up, along with everyone else on the Rapid River. “This is a cool motion. I wish we could make out like that couple over there, but I don’t wanna… y’know. Draw attention.” Pete says, and Patrick nods. “Yeah, I know.”

But then Pete just turns around in the raft, and grabs Patrick’s face. “Actually, ~~fuck~~ that. This is our honeymoon, if that straight couple can grossly make-out, than we can too.”

The camera doesn’t get it, just a close-up view of Pete’s tattoo sleeve, from where he’s holding the camera, and that stays for a while, before the camera, Pete, and Patrick are knocked out of the raft because of another wave. The camera is water-proof, thankfully, and Pete quickly grabs it. The water is shallow, so Pete and Patrick get back up, and just blink at each other, as they stand in waist-high water before they burst into laughter.

* * *

_(They’re back in the villa- Pete’s filming Patrick cooking some stir-fry. Patrick speaks as he throws peppers into the pan, and he’s not looking at the camera)_

“Kids, your dad is a very intelligent man. He graduated from college with honors, he’s been teaching for 8 years, he’s working on, what? Your 5th poetry book? Like he’s _smart_. But he’s probably one of the stupidest people I’ve ever met in my life.”

He looks straight past the camera for this- right at Pete. “I told you to put on sunscreen!”

The camera flips, and Pete’s looking past the camera too- but his red shoulders are in the frame, and they look like something has been rubbed in them, like aloe vera. “I know, but… it’s not that bad!”

But then he looks into the camera with a grimace. “But yeah… always wear sunscreen, kids. You’re still gonna get tan, but at least you can lie on your back without crying out in pain.”

He looks past the camera again with a grin. “I guess that means that you’re gonna have to-“ “Don’t finish that sentence, for the love of God.”

“You’re no fun,” Pete sticks his tongue out, and he laughs, before he returns his attention to the camera. “But uh… yeah? We’re just about to eat some dinner, and then we’re gonna try to hit up the beach again. It’s dark outside and we’re technically not allowed but…”

“But we all have to take risks in life,” Patrick says, peeking his head in the frame. There are tan lines on his face from his glasses, and Pete lovingly runs his fingers over them as Patrick talks to the camera, “But… _safe_ risks. Like, we’re just gonna eat some cake on the beach, I wouldn’t go swimming in the dark. That’s a little too much.”

“Facts. I’m already anxious about a shark coming up to shore,” Pete says, and Patrick returns to his spot, probably to check on the food. “So no night swimming for me. Oh, ~~shit~~ , Ricky, we should have picked up some wood for a bonfire!”

Patrick hums in the background. “Maybe tomorrow we can drive back to the market.”

Pete nods, and then he says to the camera, “Oh! I forgot this- driving here in the most nerve-wracking thing in the world, and that’s not even my anxiety coming into play. Because, because, like, driving on the left? Yeah, it’s so confusing. I drove back from the airport because, y’know, they drive on the left in Jamaica, and we always went when I was a kid, and I thought I could, like, develop the skill to drive on the left from Mom, since she always drove us when were there, but ~~fuck~~ no. I almost crashed like 6 times. Ricky too.”

He flips the camera, and Patrick nods. “Yeah, I think it’s one of those practice makes perfect things. But I have to _pay attention_ pay attention. It feels like being 16 and learning how to drive again. And I don’t know how to change the radio station, so guess what station we’re stuck on.” He pauses, and then he sighs. “Early 2000s. Somewhere, Brendon Urie is rolling around in happiness and doesn’t know why. We heard ‘My Neck, My Back’, like, 7 times. And that’s Brendon’s favorite song too.”

“At least he refuses to say _that_ word,” Pete says, and then he asks, “Do you think we’ll still be friends with Brendon by the time our kids are old enough to see this? Do you think Brendon and Ryan will still even be _together_?”

Patrick shrugs, as he begins to dish out their food. “Brendon is a leech. You can’t escape him. And I think Ryan is happy with him. I don’t think you grind like that on someone if you can’t stand them, you know?”

Pete laughs a little. “Oh yeah. That was intense. Here, you need help? Let me help you. I’ll grab the drinks.”

He gives a small wave to the camera. “Bye!”

* * *

_(The both of them are on the beach, and it’s dark outside. Pete’s only visible because they’re sitting under this sort of light. He’s eating a slice of cake, and he’s smiling at Patrick, who’s behind the camera)_

“What?” He asks Patrick, “What’s so funny, why are you smiling so much? Is there something on my face?”

“Because you look so good, you're so handsome,” Patrick says, and his arm is visible in the frame. He ruffles Pete’s hair a little, and he says, “Also, I think I’m a little drunk.”

He moves a little closer to Pete and he leans his head on Pete’s chest as they lie down on their beach towel, and he lifts his arm so that they’re both in the frame. “I feel like I had something to say, but now I can’t remember.”

“Maybe… kids, always listen to rules… but also, if you’re gonna break them, know your limits. Like, hang out on the beach when you’re not allowed, but instead of swimming and drowning, just get a little tipsy and eat cake.”

Patrick leans over and when he comes back into view, he’s got a fork full of cake in his mouth. He just hums in agreement.

They lie there for a while, and Pete babbles a little about how awesome marriage is, even though they’re, literally, just in their honeymoon phase. But, just as Patrick’s about to turn the camera off, they hear a voice that makes them both freeze. 

“HEY, YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED ON THE BEACH AFTER DARK, YOU DUMB BITCHESSSSSSSSSSSSS!”

“Oh my God,” Patrick says, immediately jerking up. “I’m just drunk and this is a dream, this isn’t real."

It’s real.

He flips the camera, and Brendon and Ryan are heading their way. “HEYYYYY!” Brendon yells, and he skips the rest of the way. “Ooh, cake?! Can I get? Hey, what’s with the camera?”

“They were gonna film a porno,” Ryan says, and then he laughs at his joke.

Brendon laughs too. “Hot! Can we be part of it?”

“How—how the ~~fuck~~ , how the ~~fuck~~ are you guys here right now? Why are you guys here right now?!” Pete asks, and Patrick puts the camera in the sand. It just gets the bottom of their feet, but all of the yelling can be heard.

“ _YEAH_ ,” Patrick says, “Why are you guys here? How did you even find us?!”

“You invited us!” Brendon argues, “Well… practically!”

“How,” Patrick stresses, “ _how_ did we invite you guys to our honeymoon?”

“Yesterday! You sent me a picture of ‘My Neck, My Back’ on the radio, and said ‘Thinking of you l-o-l wish you were here l-o-l, sent from Patrick’s iPhone’. And we figured you guys were bored out of your minds without us, so we just booked a flight!”

“I don’t really think that’s an invitation, Brendon,” Pete sighs. “But… you guys have your own room, right?”

There’s a silence, and Patrick isn’t yelling, so we’re supposed to take that as a ‘yes’. “Well… we might as well hang out with them, right? I mean, things are always more interesting with them.”

It’s Patrick’s turn to sigh. “I guess you’re right. And you guys are already here anyways, no point in ignoring you guys.”

“Yay!” Brendon exclaims. “This is great! Definitely worth Ryan getting motion sickness!”

Ryan groans like he doesn’t wanna be reminded. And then Brendon steps on the camera when he goes to steal some of Patrick’s cake, and turns it off.

* * *

_(Brendon’s driving the car, and he’s screaming the lyrics to Riskay’s ‘Smell Yo Dick’ and Ryan has his headphones in, presumably listening to Coldplay. Pete’s in the passenger seat, and he keeps turning around to wince)_

“SMELL MY DICK? WAIT A MINUTE, HOL’ UP. SEE, THAT’S HOW A BITCH GET’ER EYE SWOLE’UP! AND I DON’T GIVE A DAMN WHAT YA HOMEGIRL SEEEEEEEEEN, WHEN I WAS IN THE CLUB, WHAT THE ~~FUCK~~ YOU MEAN?!” He screams, and he takes both hands of the wheel to pump his hands in the air. But he’s driving fine, he doesn’t even seem fazed by the fact that they’re driving on the left of the road.

 _‘What the fuck is he on?’_ Pete mouths to Patrick, and Patrick laughs and shakes his head. “Hey, Brendon? Are you okay? How do you know how to drive on the left?”

“What, like it’s hard?” Brendon asks, and he turns his head, so that he’s not watching the road. “Actually, I studied abroad in London, and I learned how to drive on the left, cause all of the poppin’ clubs were on the other side of the city. Ah, man. England is my _city_!”

“Uh huh,” Patrick says, and he squints his eyes a little as he looks out the window. “Hey, I think we’re here? There’s a spot right over there, and we’ll just walk around.”

He flips the camera, and he speaks to it- “We’re going to get some wood for a bonfire, and then we’re gonna go shopping for souvenirs. And-“

He’s interrupted by Brendon speeding into a parking spot, and yelling out the window, “FINDERS KEEPERS, LOSERS WEEPERS”

“I don’t understand why he has to yell out the window,” Patrick says to the camera, and he flips the camera so that it’s focused on Brendon, who’s staring into the lens. “To Pete and Patrick’s future kids… Firstly, don’t call me Uncle, cause it’ll make me feel old. Secondly, sometimes, when people try to steal your ~~shit~~ , you gotta call them out. Cause I clearly saw that spot first.”

“No you don’t have to 'call them out', you just look like an asshole,” Patrick says, and Brendon crosses his arms. “But I got us the spot, did I not?”

Patrick just sighs. “I mean… yeah, but-“  “Yeah, exactly. RyRo, let’s go.” Brendon says, and then he reaches over to touch Ryan’s knee. “We here.”

* * *

_(Pete zooms into Patrick’s brand new pink baseball cap. The 4 of them are in a store, looking at shot glasses)_

“Ricky,” Pete says, to catch Patrick’s attention. Patrick looks up, and Pete grins. “Tell the camera how much you paid for the hat.”

“8 bucks,” he says to the camera, and then he sighs. “Kids, your father is cheap.”

Pete flips the camera to himself. “8 bucks! And it was 20 dollars originally! And I’m not cheap, you just have to bargain for a good price. You totally shouldn’t pay 20 dollars for a hat. The person got Ryan to spend the whole 20, Ryan, do you feel like a fool?”

He flips the camera once more, and Ryan shrugs. “I don’t really care, I have no one to buy shit for, so I don’t mind wasting money on a hat.”

“I would pay _200_ dollars for a shot glass with my name on it,” Brendon says, out of the frame, and when Pete focuses the camera on him, he’s holding up two shot glasses: one says ‘ _Brandon’_ and the other one says ‘ _Brendan’_.

“This sucks,” Brendon whines, “they have ones with your name, Patrick’s name, and Ryan’s name, but they don’t have Brendon.”

“Cause no one in their right mind names their kid _Brendon_ ,” Patrick says with a laugh. “Just buy both, and then you get double the drink.”

Brendon considers this for a moment, before he nods. “Okay, that makes sense. Ryan, do you want one?”

“I don’t want to touch alcohol for the next 10 years,” Ryan says. But he takes the glass anyways. “I’ll just fill it with soda,” he says to Brendon, and Brendon turns to the camera in Pete’s hands, and he mouths ‘ _Sure’_

“I think we should get for everyone,” Patrick says, as he begins to search the glasses for names. “Alright, here’s one for Gabe… and then here’s one for Joe… oh, and Victoria!”

“Why are you getting one for Vicky? That’s so cruel,” Brendon says, and Ryan’s eyes widen. But before he can tell Brendon to stop talking, Brendon says, “like, you’re just flaunting her pregnancy in her face, like, ‘ _hey! I know you can’t drink! But here’s a shot glass!’_ ”

Patrick’s eyes immediately turn to the camera, and Pete and Patrick say, at the same time, “What?!”

Ryan winces a little. “Vicky’s sorta… pregnant? It was _supposed_ to be a secret.”

Brendon waves him off. “They would have found sooner rather than later, everyone else knows. And she certainly _looks_ pregnant.”

“Vicky and Joe…? Baby?” Pete asks, and Brendon nods. “Yup. She told me, like, right before the wedding ceremony. But don’t tell her I told you though!”

“Who else would have told us?!” Patrick exclaims, and he immediately pulls his phone out. “I gotta call her, I’ll be back.”

And then Patrick runs out of the store, to go make his call.

“That’s so crazy…” Pete says, behind the camera, and he follows Brendon and Ryan around the store. “I can’t imagine Joe as a dad. Or Vicky as a mom. Or Vicky pregnant. So that’s why she wasn’t drunk at the reception? Wow, everything makes sense now.”

“I can’t picture you as a dad either, yet here you are, talking to some hypothetical kids,” Ryan says, and he looks into the lens. “Sorry, future Wentz-Stump kids. Also, pause this video, and go listen to some Coldplay.”

“Coldplay probably won’t be a band by the time they see this,” Pete says, and Ryan gives him a death glare. “Take that back, that’s so mean.”

“I’ll roast your life if you insult my man,” Brendon says to Pete. “So watch yourself.”

“I wish I could send you guys back to the states.” Pete says behind the camera, and Brendon narrows his eyes. “Aren’t you a little _old_ to be wearing eyeliner? I wish I could send _you_ back to 2007, where you and your so called 'style' were actually ~~fucking~~ relevant.”

They pass by a mirror, and Pete looks genuinely hurt by Brendon’s ‘roast’.

* * *

_(Everyone’s on the beach, by the bonfire. It’s dark outside again. Ryan’s definitely drinking alcohol out of his shot glass, but he doesn’t look like he’s gonna start grinding on Brendon yet. He just rests his head on Brendon’s shoulder, and hides his cards from the camera- they’re playing Cards Against Humanity)_

“Kids,” Patrick says to the camera, his cheeks are flushed red thanks to the alcohol, but he doesn’t speak with a slur, “The key to winning Cards is knowing who’s Card Czar, and what they think is genuinely funny. Like, for example… Ryan, let’s say. Ryan likes when things make sense, and go together grammatically and there’s a sense of continuity. Brendon likes when answers are totally random and make no sense… which is kind of fitting for his personality, actually. And Pete… well, he kind of just likes the dirty ones. So, if you get a card that says _‘double penetration’_ or even, like, _‘having sex with a dead body’_ , he’ll pick it… not that you should… _play_ Cards Against Humanity with your father, I’m just saying… that’s how you get in the lead.”

Patrick has the most cards in his possession, by far- he’s winning by a long haul.

“Ugh, shut up Patrick,” Brendon says, and he grabs the camera from his hands, “Give me this.”

“To my future godchildren… the key to winning Cards Against Humanity is to just have fun, and find out how horrible your friends are. I mean, really, Pete? Necrophilia? Even I draw the line there!”

Pete just shrugs.

Brendon sets the camera down, and for the next couple of minutes, it’s just the 4 friends going through a couple of rounds of the game, taking a couple of breaks to roast some marshmallows for s’mores, to take some shots.

(And, Patrick’s analysis was totally spot-on. Also- Patrick tended to lean towards whichever card was the most offensive, just cause they were funnier. But even _he_ draws the line at necrophilia.)

* * *

( _Pete’s filming in the middle of the ocean, on a speed-boat. The roar of the engine and the wind is super loud, so Pete has to yell to be heard. He’s not filming himself, he’s filming Ryan, who’s puking out of the side of the boat. Patrick, who’s still wearing the $8 cap, has his hand over his mouth so he doesn’t start puking too, and Brendon’s rubbing Ryan’s back from a distance, and he’s looking away with a grimace)_

“And this, kids, is why we always wear our motion sickness bracelets! Literally, only a dumbass wouldn’t do that when they know they’re going on a speed-boat!” Pete yells, as Ryan continues to puke. But he looks like he sort of feels bad for Ryan so he sighs, and puts away the camera.

* * *

_(Patrick’s behind the camera, and he films Pete and Brendon burying Ryan in the sand- they’re playing Coldplay in the background. Everyone’s in bathing suits, and judging by the fact that Pete’s shirtless, they were probably all forced by Patrick to put on sunscreen. But still- there’s a hint of red on Ryan’s nose)_

“How are you feeling Ryan?” Patrick laughs, and he records Ryan looking up at the camera and rolling his eyes. “Warm. And we’re playing Coldplay, so I don’t really care. I’m still grossed out by walking in on you giving Pete a ~~blowjob~~ in the bathroom, so I’m just trying to settle my stomach a little.”

It’s a little too late for Patrick to tell Ryan to stop talking, so he doesn’t. Brendon just looks up and laughs. “Yeah, I know! You’d think you guys were on your honeymoon. Oh wait.”

“Yeah, asshole,” Pete says, and he throws some sand in Brendon’s direction, “we are. But I don’t even mind you guys being here so much. Even though Ryan keeps interrupting my ~~blowjobs~~.”

“Can you stop saying ~~blowjobs~~ in front of the kids?” Patrick asks, and it’s Pete’s turn to laugh. “You’re taking this pretty seriously. So…  you think there are gonna be actual kids, then?”

The camera shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean, whatever you wanna—I mean, I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

Pete leans up, so that he’s on his knees, and he tugs at Patrick’s shorts a little. “Come down here. I wanna kiss you.”

“Oh ~~shit~~ , I thought you were gonna just pull down Patrick’s pants right here and blow him right in front of us,” Brendon says, as he continues to pack sand onto Ryan’s body. “That would be so hot.”

“You’re ~~fucked~~ up,” Patrick says to Brendon, but lovingly. And then he films Pete’s face for a minute, his large smile, the sunglasses, his _‘EMO TIME™’_ cap that he handstitched, the stubble on his face. And then the camera moves forward, so that it’s just filming Brendon covering Ryan’s chest with sand, as the two of them kiss.

* * *

_(Patrick’s in the frame for this one- he’s tossing some chicken bones into the water over the ledge of a wooden barrier and Pete films as some sharks in shallow water race to get it. He’s still wearing his pink hat, and he grins at the camera as he points to one of the sharks. There’s a low battery warning on the camera)_

“I think it would be super cool to have a pet shark that could just survive off leftovers,” Patrick says, and then he winces when a seagull, one out of the maybe 20 that are there, comes dangerously close to Patrick. “I just hate the seagulls that come with it.”

The seagulls are super annoying- but no one is more annoyed than Brendon, who keeps cowering away in fear.

“Get away, ugly!” he shrieks at them, as he hides behind Ryan, who tries to hide behind Pete. “Oh my God, I don’t even have food for you! I know my hair looks so good but damn bitch, you look desperate! _Stop_!”

“I think I’m suddenly so thankful that Brendon and Ryan joined us.” Patrick says, laughing a little. “Who else would yell at the seagulls and think that they, _a bird_ , cares?”

“You’re ~~fucking~~ ugly!” Brendon shouts at another one, “Like, _ugly_! Not even a face a mother could love, damn!”

“Pete, put the camera away, help us! Or else I’ll roast your life again!” Brendon yells at Pete, and Pete really doesn’t wanna deal with Brendon getting mad and roasting him again, so he puts it away.

* * *

_(The low battery icon is still in the bottom right of the frame. But everyone’s eating dinner in Pete and Patrick’s villa, and drinking out of bottles of beer. Ryan looks a little red, but the sunscreen that Patrick demanded they all wear paid off. There’s still Coldplay being played in the back, and Ryan mouths the words to Brendon as Pete talks to the camera)_

“So… we’re sort of idiots, since we forgot to bring our camera charger. So I guess this is the end of our vlogging?” Pete asks, and Patrick nods. “Yeah… there’s not really even much to see. We play cards every single night, Brendon gets mad about something and says he’s gonna roast everyone, Ryan listens to Coldplay, Pete and I are corny together… you’re not missing much.”

“Yeah! We’re gonna spend a couple more days here, and then Patrick and I are going to Jamaica. And these two…” Pete sighs. “They’re joining us.”

Brendon looks up for this, and he frowns. “You _invited_ us! Like, for real!”

“Yeah,” Pete says to the camera. “We did invite them to come with us, like, formally. Cause… I mean, I love spending alone time with your father, duh, but… I really cherish having our friends around too. I guess my message for you guys is that… I don’t even know. What would you say, Ricky?”

Patrick leans on Pete’s arm a little, so that he’s in the frame. “That friendship is super important. And that Brendon Urie is a leech, and once you’re around him, it’s impossible to get away from him. And I’m saying that in the nicest way possible.”

“Yeah, sure!” Brendon says in the background. And Ryan singing the lyrics to ‘ _Yellow’_ can be faintly heard in the background too. Patrick presses a kiss to Pete’s cheek before he moves back out of the frame, to take another sip out of his drink.

“Oh! And one more thing. Kids, always bring your camera charger. Because-“

And then the camera shuts down.

**Author's Note:**

> i am pete in this!!! LOL i didnt wear sunscreen/when i did, i didnt reapply it after getting in the water, cause i was like brown people don't get burnt, they get black. but nah. you get even more brown AND you get sunburnt. my shoulders are literally on fire and i have tan lines for days. lesson learned! 
> 
> also i wish everyone in eccentric could hear HFK already... i think pete would love "alone". and me and lilly smallghostkid said that the beginning to 'walls could talk' sounds a lot like the beginning to 'big hype' and in this universe patrick HAS written solo music, so like... imagine ashley asking patrick to sample the beginning of it for 'walls could talk' and PATRICK'S MUSIC BEING IN HFK?!??!!?!???!?!??!?!??!?!?!??!!??!??!?!??!?!??! UHMMM NUT?!??!??!!?! AND IM THINKING DAMN IF THESE WALLS COULD TALK!!!
> 
> you know it's nick crompton and my collar stay POPPIN! yes i can rap and NO im not from crompton. england is my city and if it werent for team 10 then the US would be shitty! i'll pass it to chance cause you know he stay LITTY!!! (the most iconic rap in the world... after tessa brook's! the competition SHOOK! tyler joseph WHO?????????????????? twenty one pilots WHAT??????)
> 
> lemme know if you guys like these short little stories! i'm already piecing together a huge eccentric holidays fic and i know what i want to do for the birth of the asher-trohman child. but im sure, with college starting soon, im bound 2 get some ideas. still tho, if you have any ideas, let me know! and my tumblr is 'travtrick' if you want to yell at me about ideas, if you want to send me the lyrics to 'its everyday bro' (so i can reply back with the next lyric duh #SongOfTheYear), or anything else!!!


End file.
